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This area is reserved for the tidbits I know hope will be of interest to my readers. Check back often for regular updates. 


Check out this article about the Fifty Shades of Grey phenomena, including a list of organizations which strongly oppose this sick trend, and have implemented various means of helping women who have been sexually victimized.


Were you raised by a narcissist? Chances are you were if you suffered any form of childhood abuse. The Little Red Survivor website is filled with excellent articles examining the many faces of narcissism.


It's been a long time coming---7 years to be exact---but finally email notifications for new BD posts is available. Sign up today and never again miss another post. You know you want to!













Kate Is Rising has an excellent Survivors Resources page which directs you to numerous websites dealing with issues of abuse, healing and recovery. Please bear in mind that the information on these pages may be triggering.



There's lots of good stuff at the Dissociation Blog Showcase, including a list of 180 blogs dealing with some aspect of this disorder. 



On the Overcoming Sexual Abuse site there's an article entitled, "It's Not About You Mom" which I could have written myself. I bet many of my readers could say the same!








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« Diminished | Main | For Crying Out Loud »


As I pulled into my bank's parking lot this morning I remembered I meant to put on lipstick before leaving home. While digging in my purse for the tube, I remembered something I'd read recently about ways we women can reduce our chances of being attacked and/or raped. One of the suggestions was to not linger in your car once arriving at your destination. Not to put on lipstick (gulp), brush your hair, etc. Apparently predators roam around just looking for someone who is caught up in her own little world, oblivious for the amount of time it takes to refresh makeup, brush hair or make a quick call.

I made sure all my doors were locked before hurrying to apply my lipstick. Once outside of the car I recalled another safety tip: look confident, perhaps even a little threatening. Walk with confidence, keep your head up, avoid giving the impression that you're anxious about being out and about on your own.

Threatening? Well, a little fierce, perhaps. I smiled at the thought of myself--grey hair and all--coming across as a threat to anyone. But why not? What have my grey hairs to do with anything?

Decades ago I couldn't have pulled it off. Decades ago I was scared and full of anxiety. My confidence level was a big fat zero. I'm sure that wherever I went alone I exuded not the confident strides of a strong female in charge of her life, but the hesitant steps of a victim fearing what lay around every corner.

I strode into the bank, no doubt looking a bit fierce as I pondered these things, for it angered me to think about how weak and anxious I used to be. Oh, I would practically have welcomed someone trying something with me this morning! No more mousie me, uh-uh.

Wasn't I the one who, on several occasions, packed up 5 sons and fled an abusive situation? Impossible, is what it seemed in the beginning. A pipe dream at best. How could I, with little income and 5 little lives dependent on me, and nowhere to go, simply flee? But I did. I was terrified, but it turns out I was more terrified of staying with an abusive man.

Looking back over my life, I see that I didn't become fearless all at once. And maybe no one ever is. I was shaking in my shoes as time and again I made tentative plans to run for my life. What if my boyfriend or hubby got wind of my plans and beat me senseless, or worse? Was I acting differently, tipping him off by my uncharacteristic behavior? Was I perhaps being strident where before I'd always come across as passive and diffident?

Apparently I could be fierce for the sake of my kids. But when I had need to go somewhere on my own, especially after dark, my anxiety rose. Every time I ventured out of my comfort zone and made it safely home again I felt as if I'd gotten away with something; I felt that I'd probably just used up my last free safety pass and that soon, very soon, what I feared most would happen.

I can't look back at my younger self with contempt. She doesn't deserve that. I think of those blurry years and all they contained of sorrow, fear and shame and I'm amazed to be here at all. If anything, I feel for her a grudging respect. I don't know how she did it. I don't know how she made it through that maze of trepidation. I don't know how any of us do it. It occurs to me now that I wasn't fierce only during those times of exposing myself to the world. What about the years of being a single mom? If that doesn't take courage and a bit of ferocity at times, I don't know what does.

Today I thought of myself as being, at times, fierce, and though initially it made me smile I think it's an apt description of part of who I am. I may not be fierce all the time, and there isn't need to be. But when it counts something kicks in: something a lot like savage courage.

I may be little, but I'm fierce!










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Reader Comments (4)

It's good to be properly fierce -- and to roar. :)

February 28, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterMarcy

I like this one. Especially the last line. It reminds me of my own little Vivian self, with a tight fist-ball held up before men five times her size. I wish I was more like her sometimes, but at least she comes out to protect most of me when we need it. You seem to have adopted fierceness even within your adult self. I hope to grow up to be like that, too. ;-)

Thanks for being your awesome fierce self, BD!


March 1, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterSynthGirl

Yes it is! Especially after not being able to for such a long while.

March 1, 2013 | Registered Commenterbeautifuldreamer

Thanks so much, Synth. This comment, for some reason, just now showed up.

I like knowing I can be fierce when needed. Sometimes I'm still cowardly, but many of my parts are quite courageous. I bet you're more fierce than you think.

March 22, 2013 | Registered Commenterbeautifuldreamer

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